


It's Only Love

by Mbarduk



Series: No More Goodbyes [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-12 22:39:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11171550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mbarduk/pseuds/Mbarduk
Summary: Faith returns to Sunnydale to help fight The First, but realises her biggest battle is an emotional one. Can Willow help her finally break free of her past and what will it mean for Buffy if she does?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So finally a sequel, which I've never really done before so bear with me whilst I figure out how to do this. This is going to start out pretty canon specific but then veer off. Because that's just the way I steer this ship. I can't promise how frequent updates will be, but there will be updates. And there will be feelings, oh so many feelings. Enjoy the ride! (oh, thanks to Sheryl Crow for the title of this fic.)

It was never going to be an easy reunion. She knew that. She suspected some sort of physical contact would occur, after all they’d been Slayers together, fighting the good fight. And when that didn’t work out they’d been brief lovers, only to have that crash and burn before it really had a chance to go anywhere. After that, they tried to kill each other, because hell, it wasn’t like they really had anything left in the end other than their hate. So yeah, Faith wasn’t expecting a homecoming where there were banners and balloons, and that sweet rum punch that they’d had at one of the Scoobie’s lame birthday parties around at the Summers’ house. The one that gave her a mind-numbing hangover in the morning. She never did decide if it was down to the alcohol consumed or the mushiness and sentimental crap the Scoobie gang go in for. Well either way she’d go for one of those mind-numbing hangovers over what she was faced with now. The confusing and conflicting emotions that had sprung up in her ever since she’d laid herself bare to Willow in that scuzzy diner on the road from L.A. were proving hard to shake off. Knowing that she was going to be face to face with the blonde Slayer again soon was also reason enough to wish for something to come along and break her train of thought for a while.

Of course, Faith should have known that in Sunnydale you have to be careful what you wish for. Especially when you are standing in a cemetery where weird things always seemed to happen to those walking through it late at night anyway, let alone bringing them on with an inane wish.

The dark slayer didn’t see the fist aimed at her face but she definitely felt its impact when it connected. And damn it if it didn’t achieve some of the distraction she’d been itching for. Wasn’t exactly what she had in mind though, feeling the familiar blow to her face. But she had a notion that Buffy probably figured it was the homecoming she deserved, Faith had to smile ruefully at that.

Just like old times, eh B? Faith thought as she dusted herself down, forgetting about that moment in the diner when the emerald eyes of the redhead gazed back at her with something like desire in them. The complete opposite look to the superior smirk she could see in the darker green eyes before her. And not for the first time that evening Faith questioned why the hell she was back in Sunnydale. Wiping that smirk off the Slayer’s face with a facetious remark about B still hitting as lame as she always did. The dark slayer had always been quick with the sardonic comebacks, at least some things hadn’t changed both women soon decided. Gearing up for round two but never quite getting there as some skanky vamp ho Faith thought she was supposed to be protecting came and interrupted them.

“You should make them wear signs!” Faith moaned, deciding the explanation for the bleach blonde vamp with the English accent could wait till she’d staked something ugly.

Because staking is what Faith understands, what she knows, and everything else in her world was suddenly very confusing. Like when she reached for Buffy’s stake, brushing her hand against firm, muscular, denim-clad thigh, both slayers pulling away quickly at the contact. An unbidden memory flashed through both women’s minds of when they’d shared more than a stake together on a night as dark and unsettling as this one. But it wasn’t just dust settling down afterwards that they had to contend with. Feelings, after all, are not so easily swept away. 

The dark-haired woman was in need of some distraction again and was glad she had something obliging to hand like a vamp to stake. Too much emotion rushed through her already overloaded mind. She wondered whether it had been a smart move to come find the other slayer straight away, reconsidering Willow’s offer of a support team instead of confronting Buffy alone. Too late now Faith realised, watching the dust of the vampire swirl to the ground, knowing the Slayer was only standing a few feet behind her. The closest she’d been to the blonde woman in three years yet it might as well be a million miles between them when she saw the contemptible look in green eyes confront her as she turned. Faith thought again of the more welcoming gaze she received from the eyes of the Wicca. Realising that part of not wanting to be there with Buffy right now had a little something to do with how comfortable it had been being with Willow.

Oh fuck, Faith thought. Is this ever gonna be a long visit. She had time to light a cigarette before the definite icy tone of the blonde woman broke through her cluttered thoughts.

“So Faith, how have you been?”

She crooked an eyebrow at the blonde, suspecting that Buffy didn’t actually give a rat’s ass how she’d been these past few years. It wasn’t like she’d been inundated with letters from the blonde woman whilst imprisoned. Not even a hasty postcard with a few scribbled lines asking after her. And Faith had given up the fantasy that Buffy had been spending her weekends waiting by the phone, on the off chance that the dark-haired woman would spend her precious phone card on dialling her number and seeing how the blonde was doing. Only took her a few tries, enough to memorize every line of Buffy’s answering machine message admittedly, to realise hanging on to _any_ fantasy where the other slayer was concerned was just a waste of time. Pity the one thing Faith had in abundance when she came to that not so radical conclusion was time, and only fantasies to fill it with.

Cutting off that train of thought as effectively as slicing it with a knife, Faith flicked the ash from her cigarette to the ground, shrugging her shoulders with her response.

“Oh you know B, five by five. And you?”

To this question she really did care about the answer, but was doing her best impression of not giving a shit. That was the way between the two women after all.

“I’ve been better.” Buffy answered, surprising herself with the honest reply.

Faith could hear the weariness in the Slayer’s voice and it broke through the hard edge she was affecting.  Finding some part of her that wanted to reach out and try and make it all better for the other woman, because that’s what she’d always wanted to do for Buffy, to make things better for her. Faith often thought how deeply ironic it was that she’d only ever made things worse, for the both of them really but hey, she was still willing to give it a shot. She wanted to reach out and touch Buffy, the way she’d reached out and touched Willow when she’d needed her to back at the diner. When the Wicca had complained about the unfairness of life and needed some reassurance that it wasn’t all for nothing. Faith had wanted to ease that pained look in Willow’s eyes just like she wanted to alleviate the weariness she’d never heard in the Slayer’s voice before. It only took one slight move towards the blonde woman though to get Buffy’s defences back up and running, glaring at Faith with a deadlier stare than before. Leaving the dark-haired woman with little choice but to react in kind.

“Yeah? You look okay for a dead girl.” Faith smirked back at the blonde. She blew some smoke out with her words, doing her best to dampen down the nauseous feeling she always got when she thought of Buffy dying, plastering on her ‘I don’t give a shit’ persona to hide how she really felt for the blonde woman. She’d been doing it for so long now where Buffy was concerned it was surprisingly easy to slip back into the clipped sarcastic version of herself, all that talk with Willow about how she could cope better with her feelings for Buffy momentarily forgotten.

“You heard about that?” Buffy’s tone was very measured. Those who knew her temperaments well, like the vampire stood next to her feeling like a spare part all of a sudden, knew it wasn’t long before she lost her temper completely. Spike took a cautious step to the side, lighting his own smoke, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

“Sure I heard. Angel came and told me,” Faith dismissed it as if it were nothing. She was not  about to tell the Slayer how she’d cried herself to sleep that night once visiting hours were over and Angel had left her. Not realising the grief he’d passed on as he barely whispered those two words to her. Words that chilled Faith’s blood, that made her stomach roil with their brutal finality when she first heard them and seemed to be achieving the same affect now. No she wasn’t about to tell Buffy _that_. That would imply she cared. So instead she smirked at the blonde before her, pretending her heartbeat was erratic because she was inhaling her first bit of nicotine in a couple of hours.

“Angel visited you?” You are _so_ busted. Buffy thought of her ex-boyfriend, and what pain she could inflict next time she saw him.

Faith shrugged her shoulders in response, drawing deeply on her smoke before replying.

“Oh he came to see me all the time, really made a point about it. Well I mean, you know how he gets over slayers.”

Knowing playing the Angel card would hit a nerve in B, hell it probably hit all of them, Faith thought Buffy’s head would explode with her last remark, and even Spike was surprised he wasn’t witness to the kind of girl fight you run up your credit card bill to see on cable. But then the blonde woman had always been consistent with her inconsistent behaviour. Faith and Spike should have learnt that by now.

She regarded the taller woman coolly. Casting a disdainful gaze over her dark jeans, a denim jacket that had seen better days, flecks of blood on the front that Buffy frowned at wondering how they got there, and tight, trashy tee underneath it. You can take the girl out of the trailer park Buffy thought a little nastily to herself, smirking in her superior way again.

Prison it seemed hadn’t done much to improve Faith’s dress sense, even if the blonde slayer recognised immediately what other changes her time behind bars had reaped on the dark woman now she was taking the time to look. Lines of muscle that rippled underneath the tight outfits she wore back in the day seemed more acute, more honed now. Slayer strength had always made sure the two of them would have killer bods as Faith herself once phrased it, but there was something harder about the other slayer’s now. Something that told the observant onlooker that this woman had taken a few hard knocks in life and was damned sure she wouldn’t take anymore.

In a rare moment of self-reflection Buffy remembered how she’d delivered a lot of those hard knocks to Faith herself. And although the blonde woman had no doubt in her mind she was completely justified at the time to have been the one sticking the knife in, to use a rather appropriate metaphor, seeing the results now show clearly on the woman before her gave Buffy a fleeting feeling of guilt. She even thought there was an edge of sympathy in there too, as she watched Faith flick her cigarette butt away and saw an unguarded look of anguish in the deep brown eyes when the other slayer didn’t think anyone was paying her attention. Buffy frowned at both the sight and the thoughts it engendered in her. Now was not the time to be developing a conscience where Faith was concerned. Besides she hardly needed to feel bad about anything she’d done in the past to the dark-haired slayer. Knowing full well she had deserved every blow. Every harsh word. Every twist of the knife. Hadn’t she?

Buffy tried to order her confusing thoughts. Reminding herself of all the reasons why she should be making things difficult for the younger woman now she was back in town and banishing all the reasons, well maybe just the one reason, why Faith looked as pained as she did for a moment there. Even though Buffy had the feeling, more than a feeling actually she damn well knew that it was all down to her. In her arrogance and her sheer bloody-mindedness, she wouldn’t allow herself to acknowledge it. Or acknowledge that Faith deserved more than she was getting from her right at this very moment. She was the Good Slayer after all.

“You’ve got blood on your jacket.” Buffy said it like it was an accusation. Faith frowned at her and looked down at herself trying to see in the pale moonlight. Damn it there was blood there, and she’d only recently liberated the cute short length denim from Fred’s wardrobe back in L.A. Couldn’t she keep anything clean?

“Fuck man, I hate it when that happens.” Faith rubbed in a futile effort to get the now dried blood off, missing Buffy’s harsh stare as she did so.

“What did you do to get blood on your jacket Faith?” Buffy’s tone was cold as ice.

Faith stopped her rubbing and looked incredulous at the other slayer.

“What did _I_ do?” Her skin started to itch, the way it always did when B pissed her off in the old days.

“Yes, what did you do?” Buffy straightened out of the casual pose she’d been striking all this time, imperceptibly readying herself for a fight should she not like Faith’s answer.

Faith took a few deep calming breaths in through her nose to give her body time to react more appropriately to Buffy’s jibe because that was a safer option than the immediate response she had of wanting to hit something or someone. It was a technique she’d learnt in prison, picked it up from a roomie she had for a couple of months whose own temper had gotten her put away in the first place.

Letting out the last breath slowly Faith knew that enough of the desire to attack had been quelled and she could answer Buffy without fear of the consequence.

“Sorry to disappoint blondie,” Faith began, her tone tinged with the anger resting just beneath her surface. “But this time the blood is nothing to do with me.”

Buffy let out an incredulous sound, doubting Faith immediately because when had the other slayer ever told the truth where blood and violence was concerned?

But Faith knew she was telling the truth and smirked in Buffy’s direction, knowing for once she could act the superior one because she hadn’t done anything wrong when the blonde slayer thought she had. It wasn’t often she got to prove Buffy wrong, Faith almost smiled at the prospect of doing so now. She should have really paid more attention to the blonde opposite her though, who was busy drawing her own conclusions as to why Faith had turned up in Sunnnydale covered in blood. And none of them reflected well on the younger slayer. Especially when Buffy finally realised there should be a red headed best friend accompanying Faith back into town.

“Where's Willow?” the blonde ground out tightly.

Faith’s smirking expression morphed into confusion to hear the change in tone coming from the Slayer. And why would she be suddenly asking about Willow? Weren’t they discussing Faith’s absolute lack of responsibility for the blood on her jacket?

“Probably at the hospital where I left her,” Faith replied, realising a second too late that maybe her explanation was lacking in some very important detail, but fuck it, she was never the one that cared about the detail before. Though when Buffy had rushed her, pinning her against the nearest tombstone and placed an arm across her neck dangerously close to cutting off her air supply, Faith thought that maybe she should start to care about the details a little bit from now on.

“What have you done with Willow?” Buffy growled, anger and despair rolling off her in waves. Suddenly it dawned on Faith what the Slayer was implying and her own fiery rage broke through to the surface.

How _dare_ Buffy think she’d hurt Willow. Faith pushed against the body pinning her, launching both of them to the ground. 

“I didn’t do anything to her!” Faith yelled in retaliation. The thought that she could ever hurt Willow was so disturbing to her she let her frustration out in a solid elbow across Buffy’s chin, rather than try and understand why she hated the thought so much.

At seeing the Slayer take a hit, Spike finally sprang into action. Although he wasn’t stupid enough to get between a slayer and, well another slayer as they fought one another, no way was he going to let that skanky brunette hurt Buffy. He waded into the middle of it with all the finesse of a bulldozer and yanked on Faith’s jacket, picking her up and throwing her off Buffy.

Faith landed hard on the ground, momentarily fazed as to how she got there in the first place.

Turning around to accept Buffy’s gratitude for the lending hand Spike was surprised when he received the full force of the blonde’s unassailable anger.

“Spike! Stay out of this! I don’t need your help.” Buffy got herself up off the ground and stalked over to a still prone Faith, turning the brunette around to face her so she could payback for the elbow she received with a hard punch to Faith’s face.

“Yeh, well, didn’t look like that from my position sweetheart.”

The vampire tried to save some of his masculine pride, but neither woman was listening. He considered leaving them to it and heading back to the house, even the bickering Potentials getting into it over who ate the last Pop-Tart was preferable to being ignored by both slayers. In the end he settled for watching how the fight was going to play out between the two women. After all they could each kill the other if they weren’t careful. The least Spike could do was hang around and make sure that didn’t happen. Or at least make sure the right slayer got killed if it did.

“You haven’t changed at all, have you Faith?” Buffy yelled as she ducked a right hook from the brunette and swept at her legs with a back kick.

Faith deftly avoided the move and caught the blonde a good hit in the kidneys.

“And I suppose you have?” Faith threw back at the blonde. Jumping up to avoid another low leg swoop not realising it was a distraction for Buffy to aim a double punch to her stomach.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The blonde demanded, pushing some hair out of her eyes.

“You’re still trying to be Queen B,” Faith wheezed out over lungs that felt burnt. She blocked the next forward attack from the Slayer and in a defensive back kick she rounded on the blonde, managing to topple them both off balance so once again they were grappling with each other on the cold hard cemetery ground.

“The only one who can judge. The only one who can win a fight.” Faith continued, catching an elbow in her ribs from the other slayer and yelling out with the pain it caused.

“I _am_ winning this fight.”  To prove her point Buffy rolled them both over so she sat atop the other woman, delivering a vicious blow to her left cheek and splitting the skin.

“Whatever B,” Faith spat out, blood trickling down from her cheek into her mouth. The taste was metallic and bitter. How the hell do vamps do it? She absently thought before she was struck with another blow to her face. This was getting tedious. The dark slayer was ready to release the full onslaught of the anger and the hate fuelled power she’d been keeping hidden away. Locked deep inside ever since she had decided to try and turn her life around. Never releasing it even on the worse days in prison when it seemed every psycho in the joint wanted to prove their rep by taking a piece of her. The younger woman had worked so hard to bury the raw carnality of hate she could feel run through her veins now. Each blow the blonde slayer delivered knocked another piece out of the wall Faith had painstakingly built up around those dark feelings. And if she let them out now then B really would be right, she would not have changed at all.

All that she’d said to Willow in the diner would have been a lie if Faith gave in right now and returned the anger Buffy was so easily unleashing on her. An anger she suspected wasn’t really meant for her in the first place, she was just the nearest convenient target. It wasn’t exactly the thought that B would be proved right that made Faith not give in to her anger, it was more the idea that she would have lied to Willow. That bothered her more than she liked to admit. The two of them in such a short time on the road from L.A. had shared so much of themselves with each other, a friendship instantly formed where only animosity and antagonism had existed before. Faith knew that she didn’t want that fledgling friendship to be tarnished so quickly by a lie.

“It makes you feel good, doesn’t it? Beating me.”

Faith began, forcing herself not to defend the blows she received with some of her own aimed at the blonde still sitting atop her, digging her thighs into her sides and making it hard to breath. Reminding Faith of that other night when B was in pretty much the same position as she is now but it wasn’t blows of her fists that rained down on her. Faith concentrated on blocking out those images. She still had to get B to stop hitting her, and now she’d decided to do that without the use of physical force she didn’t need her emotions anymore compromised.

“Makes all the other bad shit inside go away,” she continued watching carefully for a change in the angry green eyes above her. “You stop feeling things when you’re beating someone to a pulp. You don’t exist for awhile because it’s all about the physical.”

Buffy began to waver a little, her arm poised to hit Faith again stopped in mid-motion as she focused on the bloody face below hers.

“What did you say?” Buffy asked, her voice harsh still but tinged with caution. Faith’s sudden loquaciousness unsettling in her accuracy.

Faith took in a laboured breath, blood flowing more freely into her mouth from a split lip, she turned her head to the side slightly to spit some of the crimson red out. Buffy allowed the movement, seeing for the first time the damage she’d caused without really thinking about it. Could she be that lost still?

“I said you don’t exist in the real world when you fight. You never did. You feel a sense of peace about everything when you’re beating the crap out of someone. Which when you think about it is kinda ironic.”

Faith smirked, coughing a little as she wanted to laugh at her own joke but the pain in her ribs was too much to contend with the movement.

“The fact that you’re beating the crap out of me is just an added bonus.” She continued.

“I’m right aren’t I B? Feels good to be hurting me again. You missed it.”

Despite everything Faith couldn’t help one final dig at the Slayer, because hell, she was the one lying on the cold hard ground, bleeding and bruised.  Coming off worse in a fight under normal circumstances she would have more than made her presence known in.

Damnit this atoning shit was hard.

Hearing the Slayer’s next words at least made Faith feel it was still worth doing all the same.

“It never felt good hurting you.”

Buffy practically whispered the confession as all the fight finally left her. She eased herself off from Faith, unwilling to look back and see the damage she’d caused. Again. Damage she’d caused again to the younger woman all for just turning up here and making Buffy remember things she wanted to keep buried. Yes fighting did make her not exist for a time, but Faith was wrong about one thing. She never missed fighting with her. There were other reasons why she missed Faith Buffy vaguely recognised, slamming a lid down hard on them the moment she did. But fighting and hurting her was not one of them.

“Where is Willow?”

And so it was that Buffy could turn her emotions off, switch back into Slayer mode and ignore all the truth of what Faith had just uttered to her. It was a skill Faith had envied back in the day and wished to God now Buffy wasn’t so adept at. One of these days Slayer _,_ she thought as she slowly stood up testing out the places that still ached and the places she could already feel Slayer healing powers take effect on. You’re going to let someone through those walls and you’re not going to know what’s hit you. Because fuck Faith realised, not that long ago she let such a virtual stranger as Willow in through hers, and look what’s happened to me since then. I let you beat the crap out of me she thought, as she looked over to the blonde who was taking something from the lanky British vampire.

“Like I said, Red’s at the hospital.” Faith began, quickly adding “and before you get all homicidal on me again she’s not hurt. We found one of those girls, what are you calling them? Potentials? She was laying in the road. Looks like she was thrown from a car or something. Thought it best to get her to a hospital asap. Red pulled babysitting duty. Hospitals are not on my list of favourite things, you know?”

Buffy nodded briefly at the knowledge of just how much Faith hated hospitals, remembering all too well that was down to something else she did to the younger woman. She moved back over to where Faith leaned heavily against a gravestone, the thing she took from Spike outstretched in her hand.

“Here use this to clean yourself up a bit.”

Faith took the ripped bit of black t-shirt from Buffy’s hand, looking over to an annoyed vampire who made a show of swishing his long dark coat closed so as not to expose the torn shirt he now sported.

“Thanks.” Faith gingerly made a few passes over her bloodied face, very aware both vampire and Slayer were watching her every move and not wanting to show any weakness in the gesture.

“Guess you don’t hit as lame as you used to after all.” Faith endured the sudden tension filled silence for all of a minute before she felt compelled to break it.

“Yeh but your face is still as hard.” Buffy aimed for a light tone to her voice. Followed the joke through with a small smile, and the very obvious rubbing of her fist that glistened with blood and bruises of its own.

"But is it still pretty?” Faith asked, regretting the question immediately. Wondering what the hell made her come out with the slightly flirtatious response in the first place. Making a mental note of appropriate behaviour and how that totally wasn’t any.

Buffy caught off guard by the light-hearted response from Faith, not expecting the tension between them to be so easily dissipated with a few jokes, responded to the question without thinking much about her answer.

“After you’ve healed it will be.”

It was the truth after all.

Faith blinked at the blonde woman stood only a few feet in front of her. They’d gone from civil, to all-out war, and now back to something slightly playful with one another in the space of about ten minutes. That kind of mood swing always left Faith with a headache. Even though she’d been thinking it a lot lately she said again to herself how all this was _so_ not what she’d been expecting when Wesley busted her out of prison. She wondered what else Sunnydale had in store for her.

“Er Buffy.” Spike, not knowing exactly what he was interrupting between the two women but sensing something silently pass between them that he wasn’t a part of, cleared his throat to get the blonde slayer’s attention. “Don’t you think it’s time to check in at HQ? Get the skinny from Will at the hospital?”

Buffy broke her gaze with the slightly taller woman and looked at Spike as if realising for the first time that night he was there.

“Willow, yes. Good idea.” Shaking off the confusing thoughts and emotions inside, giving in to them an indulgence she could not afford right now, Buffy reverted to Slayer mode. “Spike go back to the house. Tell them what’s happened and that I’ve gone to the hospital to check on our latest would be slayer. Faith you go with Spike and I’ll see you later.”

“Wait a minute!”

“Now hold on a minute!”

Two sets of objections stopped Buffy in her tracks and she turned around to find outraged looks in both the pale and the not so pale faces before her.

“What now?”  I don’t have time for this she thought.

“I’m not playing nursemaid to a psychotic slayer, no way love. Find someone else to babysit.” Spike complained.

“I’m not psychotic!” Faith protested squaring up to the vampire not much bigger than herself.

“That’s not what I heard love.”

“Spike you’re not helping.” Buffy thought she’d best intercede as she saw Faith willing to get herself a little more messed up that night if the look she was giving the vampire in front of her was anything to go by.

“Yeh Spike shut up.” Faith scowled at him, turning her attention and her scowl with equal force on to the blonde. “And as for you, I don’t need no freakin’ babysitter alright? I’m coming to the hospital with you.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Buffy moaned as she stared Faith down. “You hate hospitals, and you need to get off the streets. I mean look at you, you’re a mess. You’ll draw too much attention to us.”

“Well whose fault is it I look this way?” Faith shot back. Here comes that mood swing again.

Buffy sighed, reining in her short temper where Faith was concerned and trying a different approach.

“Look that’s not the point right now, okay? I need to find Willow and see what’s going on. And I need Spike back at the house protecting the Potentials. I just figured you’d want to go with him and help out. He’s not your babysitter.”

“Damn right I’m not.” The vampire couldn’t resist.

“Spike!” Buffy’s warning tone told him he should have.

“And you think me turning up at your house looking like this with no sign of you is going to help matters?” Faith asked, seeing the fly in the other slayer’s logic ointment well before the others did.

“But Spike can explain everything.” Buffy countered. Unwilling to accept that her idea was bad in any way.

Not that he wanted to be the one to object next, but Spike had a fly for that logic too.

“Er sweetheart, dark and angry over here has a point.” He gestured to Faith, ignoring the ‘hey’ indignation he got for his jibe, nonchalantly lighting a cigarette as he explained things. “I don’t think Giles and me are really the best of pals right now for him to believe a word I say. After that stunt him and the headmaster pulled, he sees me come in with the renegade slayer in tow, stakes are going to start flying.”

“Damnit! I don’t have time for this right now.”

“You said that already,” Faith offered. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m not going anywhere near Giles and your baby sister without a ‘hey Faith’s good now’ explanation from you first. I’ve seen Dawn fight, she’s a hair puller.”

Faith smirked at the other woman, hoping her joke would dissolve the tension in the air a little and make it easier for her to breathe again. Maybe it would also make it easier for her to be in the Slayer’s presence, Faith could only hope.

Despite herself Buffy couldn’t help but give in to the small burst of laughter Faith’s joke provoked in her. Matching the smirk with a small smile of her own as let the laughter bubble free. And when Buffy thought about it, laughter was really the only way to go right now. All other options seemed to end with crawling in to her bed for a good long cry and not waking up until all this was over.

“Okay Faith,” Buffy sighed, resigning herself to doing it Faith’s way this time. “We’ll go home and smooth things over there, then I’ll go to the hospital and find Willow. You can come with if you want.”

The dark slayer only nodded her assent to the plan. Although her first instinct had been to immediately agree to finding the red-haired Wicca, she had to remember that it was hardly the time and place to try and re-kindle the moment back in the roadside diner when she’d come so close to kissing the redhead. Perhaps some distance between her and the Wicca would be a better course of action.

Lost in these thoughts she hadn’t realised that the vampire and Slayer had already begun to walk off without her. Buffy turned around and called after Faith over her shoulder.

“Hey dark and angry, are you coming or what?”

Faith rolled her eyes at the lameness of Buffy’s borrowed joke and followed the other two out of the cemetery. Thinking to herself again that boy was this going to be a long visit.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeek, so this took a lot longer to wrangle into something coherent. Sorry for the delay, I promise I am committed to writing this sequel, it's just life got in the way a little, as did a bit of writers block. Hopefully over that now though. Thanks for the kudos and comments so far, I really appreciate them! Enjoy the next installment : )

The house was quiet when the three of them arrived. Most of the Potentials catching a few precious moments of sleep whilst they could knowing the battle Buffy had been training them for was getting closer. It was a wonder any of them could manage any shut eye at all with that realisation hanging over their heads. But they managed somehow, exhaustion from their days catching up with them all too quickly and draining them of consciousness. If it were only that simple for the real Slayer, Buffy thought when she entered her home and found a welcoming party of only her sister and Giles awkwardly hanging in the background. Their harsh exchange of words of a few days before still very fresh in both the Watcher’s and Slayer’s mind.

“Buffy!” Dawn exclaimed rushing up to her sister and hugging her close. “Where have you been? Are you okay? Willow called, she’s at the hospital. Another girl’s been attacked.” The younger girl blurted out quickly, finally releasing her sister and standing back a little to take a proper look at her, making sure she was okay. It was a habit she’d not been able to break ever since Buffy had returned from the dead, a lingering fear that one of these nights after patrol she’d be left alone again.

“I’m fine Dawn,” Buffy answered wearily, not actually sure she was but knowing there was little she could do to change it now. “I know about Will.” 

“You do? Oh. Cool. Wait, how?” Dawn asked, failing to see past her sister to the figure lurking in the shadows of the doorway hesitant to come in. 

“I ran into an old friend at the cemetery.” Buffy’s tone was only slightly sarcastic, Faith had to give her credit for that. 

“Oh? Who might that be?” Giles came forward, his gaze searching Buffy’s for a sign of forgiveness he knew would not be forthcoming. 

Buffy regarded him coolly not answering. As the tension in the room ratcheted up a few notches beyond uncomfortable Faith figured now was a good time as any to step feet first into it, because it was probably only going to get worse when she did anyway. 

“That might be me Giles.” 

Faith stepped out of the shadows going for a nonchalant expression to her eyes and a sly smirk. In a million years she didn’t think she’d ever be standing in this house again with these people staring incredulously at her. It probably didn’t help their reaction coming in and looking as though she’d gone ten rounds with the Slayer. And when was slayer healing going to kick in she wondered. Feeling the tightness across her jaw, the ache in her cheek where Buffy had broken the skin. Knowing that Giles was zeroing in on the bruise around her eye just like he did in the old days with Buffy, trying to gauge how badly his slayer was hurt. She wondered how beat up she actually looked. Hoped she’d look better by the time she saw Willow again, frowning to herself as why that suddenly mattered to her so much.  

“Faith.” Giles stated, absolutely confounded as to what to say next. Buffy bringing the rogue slayer back with her from patrol was not something that had ever crossed his mind. 

“What’s _she_ doing here?” Dawn on the other hand had more of a handle on the situation. She instinctively moved towards Buffy in a protective gesture not lost on the dark slayer who eyed the tall teenager with a hint of admiration to her gaze. 

“Well look who’s all grown up now.” Faith teased. 

Dawn scowled at the dark-haired woman, not willing to admit that she still intimidated her. 

“Yeh that’s right. Grown up enough to kick your skanky butt out of here.” Even though the words sounded threatening Dawn could feel the beating of her heart and blood pounding through her veins at the very idea that she just threatened the psycho slayer. 

Faith laughed at the show of bravado from the teenager and took a menacing step closer to her. Sure she’d changed enough to know that she wanted to do the right thing by the blonde slayer now, but she wasn’t about to let her annoying sister get away with _that_. 

Seeing the situation deteriorate far too quickly for her liking and knowing that Faith was about to say something stupid which would mean she’d have to hit her again, Buffy stepped between her sister and the younger slayer. She really did not have time for any of this. 

“Stop it, both of you.” Her voice was harsh, her cool gaze moving from the dark slayer, who only shrugged at her to her sister who looked a little hurt. 

“Dawn, Faith’s come to help out, deal with it.” 

“Great,” Dawn moaned. “That’s all we need around here, another mouth to feed. Where’s she going to sleep?” 

The teenager knew that she was being petulant. She also knew that her objections weren’t the real reason why she was upset at the re-appearance of a woman who had once tried to kill her only sister. And probably right now Buffy didn’t want to hear either reason from the teenager but damnit, it wasn’t like she’d been given a heads up or consulted on who could stay in her house. 

Buffy sighed, not believing that Dawn could be having a teenage hissy fit over this. 

“I don’t care where she sleeps Dawn. Have her sleep in the basement with Spike if it makes you feel better.” 

“Hey bloody hang on there Buffy,” Spike protested. 

“I ain’t sleeping with him,” Faith added. “Wait, you live here? Man that’s wild. Does Angel know you’re shacking up with another vampire?” Faith smirked over to the blonde slayer, reaching around in her denim jacket as she did for her Marlboro’s. Bringing the crushed packet out only to find it empty, because of course it would be, just when she needed one to take the edge off.  

“I am not shacking…why am I even explaining this to you?” Buffy barked at Faith, feeling a headache coming on. She needed to get back on track here. “Dawn what did Willow say when she called?” 

The teenager, still annoyed at her sister’s easy dismissal of her feelings knew that now was not the time and place to be wounded by it and flipped back into junior Watcher mode as easily as Buffy pulled her slayer mask on. It was somewhat a family trait. 

“She’s in intensive care. The girl that is, not Will. She’s had surgery and the doctors are just waiting to see if she wakes up. Willow said that she’d been stabbed.” 

“Gutted more like,” Faith muttered, causing an angry set of green eyes to turn on her. 

“Faith!” Buffy yelled, knowing she didn’t need any of the Potentials overhearing this conversation, nor for Dawn to get even more worried for her. 

“I was only saying,” the dark slayer moaned. 

“Yeh well don’t.” Buffy replied. “Why don’t you go into the kitchen and fix your face or something? It still looks sore.” The Slayer raised an eyebrow deep into blonde hair challenging Faith with a ‘don’t fuck with me’ look to contest her on this one. 

Knowing when enough was enough Faith shrugged her response, moving towards the kitchen, mumbling something about cigarettes under her breath. 

“Spike go with her.” Buffy ordered, turning her attention back to her sister. 

“I’m not your bleeding lackey love.” Spike began to protest but caught in another withering glance from the Slayer he soon changed his mind. “Yeh well I’m going to the kitchen ‘cause I actually want to, right? Not ‘cause you ordered me too. Yeh I’m gonna get me some of that pie Nancy Boy made earlier. So there.” 

He stalked off, his black coat rustling the otherwise silent room. 

“Spike is such an ass,” it was Dawn that broke the awkward silence. Surprising the remaining occupants of the room in the matter-of-fact way she uttered it. 

Buffy smiled at her sister, instinctively pulling her into a gentle hug. Knowing that there’d not been much time for hugs like this between them lately. 

“What was that for?” Dawn asked once Buffy let her go. 

“For calling Spike an ass.” 

“Oh.” Dawn replied, thinking there were worse reasons to get a hug from her sister. 

“Anytime.” 

The two sisters shared a brief smile with one another, able for a split second to forget about the upcoming apocalypse and just be two regular sisters, talking and laughing and just _being._  But as usual with light-hearted moments lately in the Summers’ house something had to break it. And this something was the clipped British tones of Giles. 

“I hate to interrupt Buffy,” the Watcher began, hurt blossoming in his chest when Buffy regarded him with a coolness to her gaze he’d never seen before. 

“Then don’t.” The blonde threw back at her old Watcher, ignoring his presence once again. “Dawn did Will say anything else when she called?” 

Dawn looked back and forth between the two adults in the room, confused at the sudden tension between Giles and her sister. She knew they’d fought over something to do with Spike but didn’t know what exactly had caused this huge distance to open between them. Like life needed to get any weirder. 

“She asked if you could take the digital camera with you.” Dawn explained, rather self-consciously as she could feel the Watcher beside her just itching to interrupt and say what was on his mind. “The girl has some markings on her that Willow wants to crosscheck back here.” 

“Buffy.” Giles tried again to get the Slayer’s attention. 

“Okay I’ll grab the camera, get changed then head on over there. Will you be okay here? Xander and Anya are around right?” 

Dawn nodded a little too enthusiastically in reply, watching Buffy closely as she moved away doing an incredibly effective job of ignoring the British guy in her way as she headed up the stairs. 

“You can’t ignore me forever Buffy,” Giles stated to her turned back. “We need to talk about this.” 

Buffy stopped halfway up the stairs and turned around. Of all the things she didn’t want to have to deal with right now, her former Watcher’s hurt pride was definitely one of them. 

“No Giles, _we_ don’t need to talk about anything. _I_ need to get to Willow and that poor girl who was stabbed. _I_ need to make sure she’s okay before I come back here and ask those other poor girls to perhaps die trying to save a world right now I don’t know is worth saving. _I_ need to keep Spike from killing Faith and a million other things that go wrong on a daily basis in this mad house. And when that’s all done, if I manage to fix everything and remain standing at the end of it, I still don’t need to talk with you.” 

The words were meant as harshly as they sounded, Giles almost felt like he’d been struck physically by the blow from the Slayer. Even Dawn was surprised at Buffy’s statement. Whatever had gone wrong between the two of them it had to be huge the teenager realised. 

“Buffy…I…I was wrong, I know that. I’m sorry.” Giles tried one last time to make amends with the blonde. 

Continuing her ascent up the stairs Buffy whispered only just loud enough for anyone else to hear. 

“So am I Giles. So am I.” 

Dawn and Giles watched as Buffy rounded the corner at the top of the stairs. The tension left in her wake was palpable, coming off the tall Watcher in enveloping thickness. Dawn didn’t appreciate it much. 

“So you guys had a fight huh?” She asked innocently enough. She didn’t expect Giles to storm off in a huff into the other room as soon as she’d opened her mouth though. 

“Jeez I was only asking.” Dawn mumbled. 

“Adults are weird.” She decided as she made her way to the kitchen. Even Spike and Faith’s company was better than talking to herself.

****

This was not happening. It was not happening again, nuh-uh, no siree, not again. Not after the last time when what she wanted was so tantalisingly close in reach but she’d still been unable to claim it. Willow was determined that she wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice and miss out on tasting something it felt like she’d been longing for all her life. Something that she couldn’t get out of her mind that kept jumping into her thoughts at the most inopportune moments. She couldn’t ignore the feeling any longer and she was not going to miss out on something she really really wanted, just because she was worried what others would think. 

So when she hit the select button this time on the ancient vending machine she’d found on the second floor of Sunnydale Memorial, she made sure she added a little gravitational spell to the packet of Cheetos that were beginning to be released from their spiral prison, in the hope that unlike the last time, this packet would be successful in its bid for freedom. 

Because she was starving and grouchy and the stupid machine had already swallowed up the last of her change and not spit anything more useful out than stale air.  Willow had had to beg a tired looking duty nurse to give her three quarters so she could try and get a snack that under normal circumstances she wouldn’t touch with a twelve foot barge pool stuck on to another twelve foot barge pole. But all she really wanted was some fake cheesy goodness despite the judgmental look she received from the duty nurse once she saw what her generosity was purchasing. Because damn it, Willow needed something to take her mind off why she was standing in a glaringly lit corridor in the middle of the night in a hospital she really had seen too much of in recent years. Needed a distraction from the image of a young girl lying bloodied in the middle of the road which seemed to be on repeat in her head ever since she came to an emergency stop and Faith leapt out of the car to help the poor girl. Most of all she wanted to banish the thoughts that had appeared ever since Faith had quite understandably bailed once they’d reached the Emergency Room (Willow imagined hospitals and probably prison, were the two places the younger slayer had no desire to see the inside of ever again.) Thoughts that were bordering on inappropriate when they merged with all the others going around inside her head, but she couldn’t seem to stop them from forming and running loose. 

Wondering where Faith had gone when she left earlier saying she’d go find the Slayer. Why it made Willow’s nerves stand on end and her stomach to twist uncomfortably when she thought of Faith seeing Buffy again. Remembering all that Faith had confessed in that shitty diner on the road and how angry she’d been with Buffy, with herself, with the whole damn world for turning its back on the younger woman. She thought of how warm Faith’s hands had been when they gripped her own and wished for nothing more than their reassuring hold again, banishing from her mind that someone else had been holding her hands for months now. 

Willow leaned her head against the cool glass of the vending machine, breathing deeply, trying desperately to get a handle on her tired emotions, suspecting that was a fight she wasn’t going to win. She watched her Cheetos drop to the bottom drawer finally within reach. She crouched down, pulling the heavy drawer open, being careful not to get her hand trapped inside as she reached in for the orange corn snack. She could feel the disapproving eyes of the nurse down the hall when she didn’t even bother to stand back up but sat right down in front of the machine on the spotlessly clean linoleum, because hey it was a hospital after all, and opened the packet, reaching in immediately. She sighed, closing her eyes as the reassuring crunch gave way to melty cheesiness and banished all thoughts of bleeding girls and broken-hearted slayers from her mind. Thoughts that didn’t come back until later when she was washing the fluorescent orange dye from her hands in the restroom, absolutely not contemplating what the same dye was doing to her insides. 

When she glanced at her reflection in the mirror before her and noticed some dried blood on the grey cotton jacket she’d left Angel’s in her first thought had been eerily similar to that of a dark haired slayer no longer a million miles away, as Willow wondered to herself how come she could never keep anything clean living on a Hellmouth. But soon her memory was flooded with the reason the blood was there in the first place, which brought back the girl in the road, the dash to the ER and the look Faith gave her when she said she was going to find Buffy. A look Willow thought was tinged with regret. A look she hoped meant if they were anywhere else other than the hospital Faith wouldn’t be going anywhere, because anywhere wouldn’t have Willow in it and maybe that wasn’t ok with Faith. And even though the Wicca had nodded her understanding, knowing she’d see the other woman again soon enough and it did make sense for her to find the Slayer and bring her up to speed and Faith really did hate hospitals, Willow couldn’t help share in that feeling of regret when she saw it reflected in the chocolate eyes across from her. Knowing she didn’t want Faith to go anywhere either but not quite ready to confront the reasons why. 

Willow growled out her frustration at herself. Running shaky hands through her hair, closing her eyes and groaning aloud in the empty restroom the name of the woman so occupying her thoughts when by rights they should be occupied by the latest big bad or you know, her actual dark-haired lover. 

“Ugh, Faith!” 

“Wrong slayer.”

Willow snapped her eyes open in surprise when she heard Buffy’s slightly confused voice. She turned away from the mirror to find the blonde woman poking her head around the restroom door. 

“Buffy?” The redhead asked somewhat rhetorically, feeling heat flood her cheeks instantly and, why did the blonde have to employ stealth mode all of the time? 

“What are you doing here? Well not what are you doing here at the hospital because I called Dawn and told her to tell you to come here so it makes sense that here is where you’d be, but what are you doing here here? Like there must be a gazillion restrooms in this place, well maybe not a gazillion, but you know, lots of restrooms to go around, what are the chances you’d end up in this one? Oh oh, do you need the bathroom? The end one’s out of paper.” 

Ok so that was totally not an overreaction to being caught obsessing over the dark slayer, Willow thought. No, nothing to see here Buffy, move along. If the Wicca could groan aloud at herself a second time she would. None of what had happened to her since she’d stopped for that stupid coffee was anywhere near to what she’d expected from her evening or from herself for that matter. The redhead longed for a return to normal programming.  

Buffy reeled back a little from the Willow babble, having not had one directed solely at her for some time she was caught a bit unawares. She moved the whole way into the restroom, closing the door gently behind her. Figuring the occupants of the hospital ward were already distressed enough, they didn’t need to hear the incoherent ramblings of an all-powerful redhead to add to their evening meds. 

“Ok firstly, lay off the caffeine for a while Will.” 

The Wicca’s eyebrows shot up into her bangs at the mention of the word caffeine, because well that was a little too prescient even for a slayer. Buffy didn’t seem to notice the worried look on her best friend’s face though, much to Willow’s relief. 

“Secondly I asked after you at the nurse’s station. One of them said she thought she saw you come in here.”  

Willow nodded at that explanation, it making total and absolute sense that she’d been spotted, having been the only other person apart from the janitor the duty nurse had interacted with in the past hour, no big surprise Buffy had found her so easily at all. Now she really regretted the babble from being let loose. Especially as thirdly always followed secondly, and she could tell by Buffy’s slight change in posture that thirdly was not going to be a pat on the back for getting all the Cheetos dye off her hands. 

“And thirdly, what’s with the ‘grrr Faith' moan?” Buffy’s confused expression morphed into concern when her thoughts ran headlong into the suspicion she always greeted Faith thoughts with. “Did she do something to you? Did she hurt you? Because she said she didn't but since when does Faith ever tell the truth.” 

For a brief moment Willow’s mouth curled up into that smile she always wears when her best friend gets all defendery and protective on her behalf but it quickly morphed into a frown when she properly registered the blonde’s words. Buffy’s assumption that Faith would hurt her caused a flash of anger to jump through her veins, not dissimilar to how she felt back in the diner, only it felt less irrational this time. Like now there was a just cause for her indignation towards her friend. Because she _knew_ Faith would never hurt her. As unexpected and out of nowhere that piece of information might be to Willow, she had no doubt of its veracity, and having to listen to Buffy think otherwise just pissed her off.

“Faith would never hurt me.” 

Her voice resounded firmly in the eerily quiet restroom, a coolness to her tone that took Buffy by surprise a little because, what now? Since when did Willow defend _Faith_ of all people? Because she is fairly certain that back in the day Willow whilst not leading the call to make Faith disappear, certainly wasn’t broken hearted when Buffy finally made that happen. 

“She would never hurt me.” Willow repeated herself, the most important thing to her in that moment was making Buffy understand how wrong she was about the dark slayer. 

“Okay fine,” Buffy responded quickly. She looked at her friend curiously trying to figure out where the anger she could see blazing in green eyes was coming from. Why it reminded her so much of the look she saw in chocolate brown eyes when she had the other slayer pinned against tombstone and she’d accused her of hurting her best friend. What it might mean to see almost the mirror image of that look now on Willow’s face. 

“One less thing to worry about now Faith’s back in town,” the Slayer muttered mostly to herself, wondering why the hell her evening still had the dark-haired slayer at its core. She began unconsciously rubbing her thumb over the bruised knuckles of her right hand. That gnawing ball of guilt at what had transpired between the two of them, the damage Buffy had almost unconsciously inflicted on the younger slayer eating away at her insides again. 

Willow followed the blonde’s movements, feeling the tension slowly dissipate between them. She squinted a little as she looked at Buffy’s hands, it was hard to make out under the low level of the fluorescent lighting but the unmistakable signs of a tough fight were definitely showing themselves on the Slayer’s pale skin. Her anger was quickly replaced with concern for Buffy as she took a tentative step closer to her friend.   

“Rough patrol?” She asked softly, her voice concerned and more like the Willow Buffy was used to. She reached for the blonde’s hands for a closer inspection, because what better place to fix the Slayer up than a hospital with an already abundant supply of the bandages it looked like the other woman needed. 

Buffy looked down at her bruised hands being held by the much softer, much paler hands of her best friend, the truth of what actually happened on patrol stuck somewhere inside her, unwilling to come out. Her instincts told her that the tender way Willow was caring for her now, holding her hands delicately and checking for broken skin, broken bones, would stop the second she admitted to fighting with Faith. Because something had happened between the two women, something quick and unassailable that Buffy couldn’t explain, but by the feel of things so far that evening it was something that had managed the impossible. It had turned enemies into friends. As unlikely as that sounded in her head the moment she thought it, so much so the blonde wanted to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of it all, she knew the warmth with which the Wicca held her hands now would disappear if she told Willow the truth. And she couldn’t bare the loss of the tender touch between them because god knows lately she’d not had time for tender or caring or _anything_ from her best friend that didn’t include battle plans and pain and destruction, even death, so the universe would just have to forgive her another lie to her closest friend. It wasn't like she hadn’t told her hundreds already.    

“Yeh, rough patrol.” Buffy sighed, closing her eyes and letting herself just feel the comfort of Willow as she rubbed across her wrists in silent understanding. “You know vamps, they just don’t know when to quit.” 

“Bet you showed ‘em who’s boss though,” Willow offered, a smirk to her lips. 

Buffy grimaced slightly, looking away from the now brighter eyes of her friend, another layer of weight added to the guilt inside. Pulling her down, making everything ache. 

“Of course I did.” Buffy swallowed past the lump in her throat that her lies caused. “I’m the Slayer aren’t I?” 

“You sure are.” Willow responded a little quietly, finishing off the thought in her head _but you’re not the only one._ Wondering for the millionth time that night where Faith was and if the beautiful dark-haired woman was alright. 

She let go of Buffy's hand with a gentle reassuring squeeze adding "I'll think you'll live," before moving past the blonde, putting a little distance between them just in case her thoughts about the dark slayer were obvious to read in her eyes. 

Frowning a little at Willow's retreat but feeling blessed to have gotten a moment's tenderness from her best friend Buffy did nothing to stop the redhead as she reached for the door handle, mustering up her last bits of strength and deflection as she followed her back out in to the corridor. 

"So I have the digital camera with me," Buffy said a little too brightly given the circumstances. Like this was a class trip to the zoo and she'd remembered she was on photography duty for the school paper. If only their trips to the zoo in high school had been that easy.

Willow smiled at Buffy over her shoulder, doing her own deflection mustering, as the Slayer's comment reminded her of why they were both there in the hospital in the first place. And it wasn't to obsess and worry about a wayward slayer who up till a few days ago hadn't caused her any such incommodious thoughts as she was doing now. 

"That's great. Super useful," Willow reassured, even if her tone was a little forced. 

“The girl has this symbol on her arm that is probably important because of the way it was put there and you know, it looks all ancient and creepy and evil. And you just know when you see symbols you don’t understand it does not mean ‘this way to the taco stand’ and is more like ‘imminent death to all’.” Willow explained in her unique way as they walked together down the hall to the ICU. 

“What do you mean, how it was put there?” Buffy chose to focus on the less babbly part of the Wicca’s answer, having learnt long ago it was best not to encourage Willow when she got started on a tangent. 

Willow scrunched up her nose in reply. 

“It was burned into her flesh.” 

“Ewegh gross,” Buffy grimaced in sympathy and got a nod of agreement from the redhead. “So how did it get there? Are we thinking Bringers?” 

“Not their MO to let a Potential survive,” Willow pointed out, slowing her step now they’d reached the ICU doors. 

“A good but depressing point.” 

“And it can’t be the First, because the First…” 

“…can’t take corporeal form,” Buffy finished the Wicca’s thought for her. 

“So that leaves door number three.” Willow said, her voice quieter, her tone a little more concerned. 

Buffy raised an inquisitive brow at her friend, as usual not quite keeping up with the Wicca’s deductive reasoning powers. 

“There’s a new Big Bad in town.” Willow explained. “One that will burn a symbol into a girl’s skin, stab her and leave her in the middle of the road to die.” 

“Great, just what we need.” Buffy sighed in response. 

Things can’t get any worse tonight, the Slayer thought to herself. 

“So Faith caught up with you then?” Willow asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice as she pushed through the ICU doors, looking over her shoulder at Buffy, waiting for her to answer. 

All the blonde could do was offer an affirmative nod of her head, more relieved than she should be when the doctor approached and started talking to Willow about the girl's prognosis, distracting the Wicca from further questions about the dark-haired slayer, and leaving Buffy to think that actually things can get worse tonight.  

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
